


Linger On

by corrinefluffy



Category: Homestuck
Genre: AD is in alternate dimension, All of the trolls - Freeform, F/F, F/M, God Tier, Kurloz Makara - Freeform, M/M, SBURB, Troll Romance, all of the dancestors and ancestors at some point, more tags added as needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-01
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-13 14:40:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/825454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corrinefluffy/pseuds/corrinefluffy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John finds himself somewhere strange after a battle with Bec Noir. While resting to regain some of his strength he comes across an odd troll who takes an unusual interest in him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have some trouble writing Gamzee but I hope he comes across as he's supposed to. I've been working on this for a little while but I thought I would finally post here.
> 
> This was inspired by this absolutely beautiful picture I came across on tumblr:  
> http://jove-bluh.tumblr.com/image/32803878166

The cold slab of stone that pressed unforgiving against his back John Egbert had felt only one other time in his life, of that he was sure. Through the fog of his sleepy mind he registered that the stone had indentations right where his spine was located, and the deep cuts apparently resembled the symbol he wore in the middle of his shirt. It cemented in his mind that John lay on his quest bed, which made no sense because his quest bed was nearly destroyed in the Land of Wind and Shade. Yet the distinct marking and the cool air that ghosted over his body left no doubt that he was indeed resting on a quest bed, and the marking he felt could only be for one who had the aspect of Breath.

A shiver worked its way over John’s body and he forced his eyes to open, blinking in confusion when he saw a mist of cloud swirling over his body. The damp air raised goose bumps over his flesh and he shuddered as he sat up on the stone, pulling the long blue hood over his face to block some of the harsh wind.

No, not wind, John realized, but stagnant air that was so utterly cold his very bones felt chilled enough that simple movement was difficult. And unfortunately his sparse hood provided little relief from the crisp air as it twisted around his frozen cheeks.

John pushed himself off of the stone with more force than necessary, turning to study the bed he had woken up on. It was different than the one he’d ascended on the Land of Wind and Shade; that bed had been alive with his aspect and the colour blue, practically pulsing with life. This bed was devoid of any such thing; it was a barren and dead thing that was gray and black, cracked in many places-most noticeably through the Breath symbol at the center. Even when he’d lain upon it John hadn’t felt any closer to the wind, whereas on his previous quest bed he had felt every nuance of air that moved throughout his land, from the gusts caused by angry winds to the tiny breaths within a person’s body.

It only cemented the idea that this wasn’t his quest bed and he didn’t belong here, wherever here was.

John winced as he turned around once more to survey the surrounding area, glancing down at his side where his blue t-shirt, a few shades paler than his hood, showed a rapidly spreading red stain, originating from where he had felt pain. With another wince, accompanied by the smallest whimper of pain, he curled his right arm to his side and summoned up a small swirl of air that he pressed against the wound as impromptu pressure to stop the bleeding.

That damned Bec Noir, he thought to himself as he fought to keep the pressure hard enough to actually do some good, and not just give his body undo pain. He could remember now what had happened, although not how he had gotten to this unfamiliar plane.

Bec Noir had finally caught up with him and Jade and attacked the two of them while Davesprite and the other sprites fought to keep him distracted enough that Jade could continue to pilot the Prospitian battleship. It had worked until John had joined the fight, where Bec Noir’s attention had centered on the Heir and nothing else, dodging every attempt the others made to draw him away. The fight had been fierce, collisions between wind and red miles, hammers and swords. Bec Noir didn’t flee in terror as he had a few times in the dreams the two of them had appeared in, instead attacking with all the rage he had accumulated over the three years they hadn’t seen one another.

John had fought just as fiercely, concentrating most of his power in his hammer. He knew that Bec Noir had been badly wounded; the demonic creature had been tossed over the left side of the ship with one wing broken and shredded by the wind. The Heir hadn’t escaped unscathed, however. Bec Noir has stabbed him twice, once in the side and the second time in the thigh, trying to halt his movements before he realized that John didn’t need his legs to move around.

A quick glance at his body revealed several long slices along his arms and legs, most of which having already scabbed over and only ached with the chill. He gingerly tested his leg, biting back a cry when the afflicted area burned like he’d just been freshly wounded. He wiggled his fingers and directed the wind to wrap around his thigh, fashioning a type of invisible sling to stop himself from putting his foot down.

The Heir of Breath took one hopping step and sighed. A scan of the surrounding area revealed that he wouldn’t be able to find his way to a town before he either died from blood loss or suffered hypothermia. Another manipulation of the wind eased his body from the ground and into a floating position, one he had adopted and perfected since he had first ascended to God Tier. He knew in that riding the wind would make climbing down the mountain he had ended up on much easier, especially as the closer he got to the ground the stronger his tenacious hold over the air would become.

He didn’t know where he waws or how he got there, but this definitely isn’t Earth any more than it’s LOWAS. John sidled three feet to the right so he didn’t run into the lone rock covered in snow, sending icy particles flitting into the air as he passed. The chill was receding the farther down the mountain he traveled, the snow gradually disappearing until dirt that seemed to be more red than brown appeared.

John couldn’t help but look around as he floated on the thick air currents, noticing that sparse greenery was beginning to show itself. Although it wasn’t necessarily green; some of it seemed more blue than green and he didn’t see anything that resembled trees yet. He did notice the sky darkening, the day disappearing, but strangely enough the air was gradually warming up. He just wasn’t sure if that was because he was finally reaching the bottom of the mountain or because the sun was disappearing into a comforting dusk light. John pressed his fingers harder against his side, worried the warmer air might aggravate his injury, and closed his eyes as he tried to connect himself to the wind of this planet.

It wasn’t easy, not like it should have been to someone of his aspect and class. It almost felt as if some type of barrier was blocking him from grabbing full control of his aspect and while he could maneuver the air to a certain extent, enough to carry his weight around, he couldn’t quite grasp the lines he needed to search this world for its denizens.

With a light sigh John opened his eyes and gave up the search, choosing to look for someone to help him the old fashioned way. His lapse into wool-gathering hadn’t been completely in vain as the sound of waves reached his ears and he turned where he assumed south was, squinting until he saw what he thought might be a lake. Or maybe an ocean.

John drifted on the air at a sedate pace, his energy having been mostly drained controlling air that was thinner than a sheet of paper. I should probably go back to walking but I know my limits, and while that water looks close enough it could easily be a few miles away. He shook his head in response to his thoughts and shifted the air around him enough that he felt like he was reclining in a rocking chair that swung idly back and forth.

The motions were almost enough to put him to sleep and John feared he drifted on the edge of consciousness as his power carried him steadily over the stretch of hilly land between the mountain and the water. If pressed later, he could honestly say he had no memory of the trek or of anything he passed.

Only the sound of gentle waves roused him and John glanced over the dark waters, finally loosening his manipulation of the air and lowering himself onto the sandy bank. Now that he wasn’t splitting his attention between his aspect and his body the burning of his injuries returned and he bit his lip to stifle the cries of pain that threatened to escape. He straightened his legs and lay back, pillowing his head on a lump of sand.

I’ll just rest here for a little bit, John thought as his eyes slipped closed once more, his body already relaxing into a state of unconsciousness. When I wake up I’ll start looking again for some people.

Xxx

“Hey, motherfucker, you know the sea isn’t the best fucking place to get a wicked snooze on, right?"

John’s eyes popped open at the raspy voice; he reflexively tried to straighten and couldn’t suppress his loud groan as the injury in his side pulled. He hastily placed his palm against the wound and looked around for the owner of the voice that had awakened him, his eyes widening in shock when he found them.

It was a humanoid creature, the features sharp and beneath a couple layers of face paint; John couldn’t help but think the paint might be a mask of some sort because it covered skin the colour of gunmetal grey. Weirdest of all were three parallel thin lines of violet that crossed the creature’s face, two which started at the bridge of his nose and sliced through his cheek while the other cut through the opposite cheek. There was a mass of black wavy hair that curled around the young face; with the creature leaning so close John could make out little bits of dirt and something green sticking to individual strands. Sticking out from the messy curls were long, thin antlers that resembled those of a gazelle, their tips a darker yellow than the creature’s eyes and bleeding down into a dark orange.

The skin colour was odd-John found himself wondering if it were another type of paint or perhaps ash but he saw no colour difference around the joints or fingers-yet what caught John’s attention was the colour of the creature’s eyes. Where normally any earthen creature or human had white sclera, this one had dull yellow that surrounded pupils that weren’t quite black, but their true colour was indiscernible. A quick glance down revealed a black t-shirt with a dark purple symbol on the front, one that was familiar but John couldn’t place it, and light gray pants covered in white polka dots that covered bright purple shoes.

“Aw, shit, brother, are you some kinda diseased troll with those fucking bright eyes of yours? There ain’t no way a small motherfucker like you is an adult."

John found himself blinking again, surprised at the lazy way the creature was speaking to him. If he didn’t know any better he’d think he was talking to someone who was high but surely this weird planet didn’t have things like drugs?

“You okay, bro?"

He released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and decided to just go with the flow, sticking out his unoccupied hand. “Hi, I’m John. What’re you?"

Those alien eyes looked down at his hand for the longest time before a large hand with unusually long fingers that ended in sharp, yellow-tinted nails was handed over, landing atop his and simply resting there. It was pulled away after barely a second of contact.

“I’m a troll, man. Gamzee’s the name. What kinda sicknasty beast are you?"

“A troll? Oh man, I’ve met some trolls before! Well, I never really ‘met Ethem but that’s all semantics. We used to talk online all the time. They lent me and my friends a lot of help during…our…game…" John trailed off, his demeanor darkening as he was reminded of Sburb and how he had gotten injured in the first place. After a pause that lengthened into an awkward silence he continued, “oh, ah, I’m a human! Ha ha, John the human, that’s me!"

“You up and feeling alright, bro? You’re starting to look like Goatdad." John’s attention caught on those claws as they came closer, the tips just barely grazing his cheek and leaving behind a line of sizzling fire. “Shit, I had my think on that your skin would be hot like the sun cause it’s so fucking white but you’re colder than a damn ablution block set to freeze. Come on; I’ll take you to my hive and warm you the motherfuck up."

“Wait, Gam-uh…Gamzee, was it? Wait-ow!" John’s knees buckled almost as soon as he was drawn upright. Even as brief a respite as he’d taken had been enough to fully exhaust him and his legs wouldn’t hold him up anymore.

“Hold on, my whitest of bros. I got a friend whose legs don’t work so tight anymore and you look lighter than a fucking wiggler." Gamzee swung John up into his arms as he was speaking, the lean limbs surprisingly strong despite the fact that they didn’t look like they could hold John’s weight.

John’s fingers found purchase in that cotton shirt; curling over the purple symbol that now lay next to his own aspect. He could feel those claws gripping his knee and shoulder, holding him close like only his father had done before. Just the thought of his father, whom he hadn’t seen in over three years thanks to the trip on the ship and Sburb ruining the world, nearly sent John into tears which he valiantly held back. Instead, he turned his face into a broad shoulder and fought to steady his breathing, shivering at the unnatural heat emanating from the troll.

“Easy, I’ve got you. We’ll get back to my hive and my invertebrother will fix us up a fucking delicious breakfast. He makes all kinds of mirthful messes in the nutrition block."

Gamzee’s husky voice was almost like a lullaby to John’s ears as they left the ocean behind and headed towards what he guessed must be a town. There were various structures, some that looked like skyscrapers and others no more than a story or two, each with various symbols and colours decorating the doors. He didn’t see any other trolls around and he didn’t hear any voices or other noises but he knew better than to think that meant they were alone.

The tall troll led John to a structure he thought was on the other side of the town, a building that was neither too tall or too short with the purple symbol that resembled the word ‘no Epainted above the door handle. Gamzee entered it without knocking and carried John over to what looked like a messy pile of bike horns and other items, but rather than placing John on top of it he set the human on the floor beside the pile and sat across from him.

He didn’t speak, staring at John with an unblinking gaze that was just short of creepy. John glanced away once, twice, but his eyes kept returning to that fixated stare and finally he couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “So uh…how did you get injured?" He motioned to the three marks that weren’t covered by the face paint. It wasn’t the best conversation starter and was as subtle as a battering ram but he couldn’t concentrate on much with that question forefront in his mind.

Gamzee reached up and fingered the middle cut, his dark orbs leaving John for a moment as he stared at a point beyond the human’s shoulder. “It was a debt of the most heinous proportions, man, Ehe murmured, his tone so low it was difficult to hear him. His body hadn’t stiffened but the way he phrased his answer led John to believe that he should stop thinking about that question and simply relax.

“Um. Do you have any bandages? I need to wrap up my leg and side."

“Bandages? What kinda blasphemous thing is a bandage?"

Now it was John’s turn to blink at the unexpected question. He had known from the start he was in an unusual place but unless Jade’s power had brought him to some place thousands of years in the past, a simple thing like a bandage should be known. At a loss, he slowly lifted his side and pointed to where the roundish hole just below his ribs was still slowly oozing blood. “You know, something to stop my side from bleeding before I die."

John was pretty sure that dying from blood loss after finding another sentient creature wouldn’t be just or heroic-it would be incredibly stupid in fact-but he wasn’t sure if the rules of the game were still in effect. He didn’t want to risk actually dying to see if he would resurrect due to his God Tier status.

He was brought out of his thoughts when Gamzee suddenly lunged forward, the tips of his claws just barely tracing over the outside of the wound. The strangest tickling sensation, accompanied by tiny pinpricks of lightening, surged through his body and John forced himself to remain still through the light touch.

“Aw shit, you shoulda said you were hurt! I ain’t no fucking pan reader to know all about the motherfucking injuries my peeps have! Come on." With that he swung John up into arms once more, leading him through the house and into a room smaller than the living room but larger than the kitchen.

There was large square tubing on the far side of the room that resembled a glass shower, except there were various nozzles spaced evenly apart on each of the walls, ceiling, and floor. There was also a mirror, a toilet, and two dark fluffy towels hanging near the tubing, one with Gamzee’s symbol and another with a symbol that curiously resembled an elongated w over top of another in a dark purple (violet) colour.

Gamzee placed John on the closed toilet seat and stripped without ceremony. John had time to only glance at the six scars placed along his ridged sides, unable to force himself to peek lower, when Gamzee pulled John’s hood off his head and tossed it to the side, his shirt quickly following.

“Hey! Wait, what are you-G-Gamzee!" John squeaked as he pushed ineffectively at the claws now pulling his pants and underwear down, tugging his shoes off when the cloth caught on them.

“Shoosh, motherfucker. We’re gonna get you all cleaned up. This water will help seal the wounds and if not you can get your fucking snooze on in my recuperacoon." Gamzee carefully removed John’s glasses and placed them on the back of the toilet, hauling the human up by his shoulders.

Before John had a chance to stammer out a reply he was herded into the glass tubing with no time to worry about his nudity as the nozzles came to life. A dark liquid pulsed out from them, thick and yet sweet smelling as it began to coat his form. His skin tingled as the water began to foam, and nimble fingers began to spread that foam over his body. He could feel the snarls in his hair unravel and, to his complete surprise, the skin over his leg knit back together. He could actually feel it happening, which was both an awesome and terrifying experience that twisted his stomach with nausea.

“There we go, bro. Just relax and let the fucking water do its job."

Gamzee’s unusual way of speaking and gentle touch did what the water could only partly accomplish, easing John into a state of complacency so that he leaned back against the wall, shivering as the water pelted him with more pressure on his back. This almost reminded him of when he was younger and his father bathed him after he’d tried riding a bicycle, only managing to go a few feet before he hadn’t been able to control the contraption and had crashed into the tree in the front yard. Just the memory of those hands, rough from years of baking and washing, so carefully soothing each cut and scrape brought tears to his eyes and John’s breathing hitched as he fought back a sob.

xxx

Gamzee didn’t say anything as the torso underneath his hands began to shiver with each sound bitten off by those strangely hypnotizing dull teeth, two of which protruded further from the boy’s lips than the rest of them. He had heard such muffled sounds before by only one other troll, those pitifully wretched cries that truly came from the deepest recesses of a troll’s blood pusher. If he didn’t already have a moirail who did his duty better than any other troll Gamzee had come across, Gamzee would most likely have put his arms around the blue-eyed pale troll and offered his platonic comfort as best as he knew how, not to prevent a blood rage like a papping was meant to do but to bring another back from the depths of despair, another form of hell just as terrifying as a rage.

Reminded of his one filled quadrant, Gamzee held himself back and set to work cleansing the man-boy; it was so hard to tell his age because of both his bright eyes and tiny body; and helping the foam dissolve until nothing remained. He was pleased to note the hole in John’s thigh had closed over until bright pink skin remained; he tested his fingertip against the area and noted with John’s squeak that it was still tender despite looking healed. The hole in the side was more worrying, the skin coming together until a thick scabbed line remained but the wound must have been too deep to fully heal with one cleansing. At least it had stopped bleeding.

Gamzee made quick work of cleaning himself and stepped out of the shower, leaving John underneath the spray for a minute longer as he toweled himself dry and wrapped his towel around his waist. He ignored the way his wet hair clung to his face and lay irritably over his eyes as he searched around for another towel that didn’t belong to his moirail, but couldn’t find one.

John must have noticed his dilemma, or at least wondered why the troll was standing there looking around, for he stumbled out of the ablution chamber and moved his hands in the air over his chest. Gamzee could feel the air twist and turn around their bodies, as if there were a few windows opened for a fresh breeze despite the fact that the room had no windows, and stared in wonder as the droplets covering John’s body disappeared. That black as night hair twitched but otherwise remained wet and limp, and John’s knees buckled as the air became still again.

He hurriedly caught the human, mindful of his claws, and helped him sit on the toilet seat once more. “Get your rest on solid like over here for a motherfucking moment, brother. I’ve gotta be making up my face like the most wicked of nasty trolls."

He stood in front of the mirror and grabbed one of the few pots that were placed conveniently near the glass, dipping two fingers in the white paste in the biggest bowl. He closed his eyes and smeared the paste over his face, mindful of his eyes and the cuts that remained purple despite healing. He quickly washed the paste off his fingers and grabbed up a thin brush, dipping it in the gray paste just a bit lighter than his skin colour. He smeared the gray paste over and around his lips and eyes, following the curve of his cheek almost to his ears. He thought about adding a couple of circles but decided that he preferred the simple look and replaced the bowls, brushing his wet hair back so it wouldn’t leak water over his handiwork.

“Well, human? Is my dope smear whimsical enough to halt the wrath of the mirthful messiahs?"

Those true blue eyes disappeared as John blinked-so slowly-and he gave a heavy nod. “Uh, yeah, it looks fine. But why do you wear all that make-up? You’re not that bad looking."

Before Gamzee could comment he saw that pale skin light up like a leaving on 12 Perigee’s Eve, so hot he thought for sure that lava would come pouring out of that small nose. “I mean-well-did you mention breakfast? I’m starved!"

John scratched the back of his head and looked anywhere but at Gamzee. He froze as he seemingly recalled his and Gamzee’s nakedness and another squeak sounded, so like that of a wiggler Gamzee couldn’t help the wide grin that spread over his visage. “But first, do you have any extra clothes? I think mine need a wash."

“Sure, bro, I got all kinds of fucking cloth in my hive. All the trolls around be jealous of the righteous thread I been donning."

He drew John out of the ablution chamber and down the hallway to his room, where his recuperacoon dominated the space in the middle of the floor. There were many bike horns scattered around and he stepped on one, then another, and a third as the loud honking appeased his inner thoughts. He sat John down on the floor and headed to the closet, glancing through the clothes hanging there. Black shirt, black shirt, black shirt, black sweater, polka dot pants, polka dot pants, pants, shoes, shoes and more purple shoes. He scanned over each one carefully and realized there was a new problem present. He turned back to John with a regretful sigh.

“Shit, man, my think pan must be fucking addled from finding you all broken like on the sand. All my threads are wicked sick as befitting this motherfucker, but I ain’t got no clothing for a fucker like you." He held up one of his shirts, decorated of course with his symbol, and a pair of long pants.

Truthfully he knew he couldn’t put his own symbol on John, especially with them being virtual strangers. He had only seen matesprits sharing clothing and he had no such designs on the strange human in his midst, therefore his clothing was out of the question. Unfortunately he couldn’t explain all that, nor did he want to take the time to do so. A thought crossed his mind and he resisted the urge to snap his fingers.

“I got it! My sis creates fucking miracles with her fingers. She can come over and craft some bitchtits clothes for you to wear while you’re here." He quickly dressed in the clothes he’d held up and laced up his shoes, glancing up when John remained silent.

Gamzee was startled to see that John had fallen asleep where he sat, or rather fell over, his head pillowed on a rolled up pair of pants he’d never bothered to hang up. The human looked puny, pitiful, and alien in his bedroom, his lower body covered with a spare shirt that Gamzee had left lying next to his recuperacoon. Seeing just that long black cloth splayed against such white skin had an unexpected and unwanted effect on his body and he forced himself to move, quietly gathering up his husktop and carrying it into the kitchen. He started it up as he sat in front of the pie he’d made earlier, dipping a finger into the cooling mixture for a taste as he clicked on one of the names underneath his friends list.

A few messages later and he sat back with a grin. Very soon his troll buddy would make her way to his hive with spools of cloth. All he had to do was wait and wonder just where his genetic brother had wandered off to.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter everyone's favourite jadeblood and John continues to have feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lateness of this chapter. I've been sitting on it, trying to find a way to end it for a while now. I also profusely apologize for any mistakes, as I don't have a beta and this was typed and posted on my IPhone. I also no longer have Internet so the updates will be extremely slow.

John’s eyelids felt like weights as he struggled to open them; his body felt sluggish and his skin was freezing. For the longest moment he simply lay there, wondering why his vision was obscured by a black film and why he could hear what sounded like people talking with a cadence that sounded familial to his ears. He straightened with a grimace, reflexively pressing hesitant fingers to his side when the skin pulled there. They grazed across a long scab and he looked down, pulling a black shirt to the side to inspect the healing skin.

“Oh, I guess that wasn’t a dream. That troll Gamzee really did bring me home, and that…shower really did heal me." He fingered the skin, stopping when his curiosity of who was talking got the better of him. He stood and glanced around, pulling on his dirty blue pants; they were the only salvageable garment of his outfit; and making his way to where the voices were coming from.

He found what he thought must be the kitchen-cum-living room where Gamzee was sitting on the floor, an incredibly pretty troll sitting across from him, a half-sewn garment in her lap. Both looked his way when he entered; John was surprised to see the girl troll’s eyes had a hint of colour to them instead of black pupils. They were edging towards green but weren’t quite there yet.

His eyes took in black hair pointed sharply away from the angular face that didn’t appear to be held with gel yet kept its shape admirably none the less. She possessed two horns, like Gamzee, only hers were shorter and while each were the same height one curved up above her head in a simple arc the other had a point that curved downward away from the horn. She wore a gray undershirt covered with a black t-shirt that had a dark green symbol on the front resembling a capital M-only with an extra curl at the end-and a red-orange skirt with eight buttons down the middle that separated the smooth right side of the fabric from the ridged left side. She had an aura about her of someone of importance; John might even liken her to his mental impression of Rose.

“John, my most salacious of friends, come meet my sis. This is John the human."

Kanaya continued to stitch through the fabric in her lap even as she looked up at John and gave a small smile. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, John Human. I am Kanaya Maryam. Gamzee has informed me that you washed up on the sand with nothing but your clothes, which are in complete disarray. I have been drafted to craft you a new pair of clothing. I am correct to assume you wish it to be in that utterly riveting shade of blue you are currently wearing?"

“Uh, yes, please! Although you don’t have to if you’re busy. I’m fine with hand-me-downs, even if they belong to a giant like you, Gamzee. And you can just call me ‘John, Eyou don’t need to add ‘human Eat the end."

“Don’t be absurd, John. To even suggest such a thing-why, your society must be incredibly backwards." Kanaya snipped off her thread after another reproachful look towards John and held up a long shirt not quite the shade of his other shirt; it was darker like his eyes but missing his aspect symbol. “I’m told you have a design on your original shirt. May I see it?"

“Sure. I’ll just-"

“Nah, man, go get your sit on like the most jovial of fuckers. I’ll grab it."

Gamzee disappeared before John could think to object and he shook his head, carefully lowering himself next to Kanaya. She was still eyeballing him, muttering under her breath as she fixed strands in the cloth, this time with a different coloured thread so light it was like ice.

“You’re really good," John offered after a few minutes of unbearable silence. Truthfully, watching those dangerous claws circumvent the thread without doing any damage was amazing to watch.

“Why, thank you, John. Creating new fashions is a hobby of mine, even if other trolls do not appreciate my efforts."

“What do you mean? I noticed that you and Gamzee both wear mostly black…" He trailed off as Gamzee returned to the room, holding John’s shirt carelessly in his claws. John could already see where those deadly nails had torn through the shirt but at least his symbol remained untouched.

“That is a lovely symbol, and I can see I chose the right colour. I admit I’m surprised to see you display your blood colour so openly." Kanaya finished stitching and held up the garment to John’s chest, measuring how much she needed to trim the hem before she lowered it once more.

“Huh? Oh, no, my blood colour isn’t blue! Although it’d be really cool if it was. Blue’s just kind of my colour, you know? I mean I like green a lot but that’s Jade’s colour…" He wasn’t sure how to explain his love of the colour better than that. He had been using it since he was young and had apparently coerced one of his friends to use the colour as well without realizing it.

“It isn’t? But your eyes are blue, are they not? And your symbol is blue, if a different shade…" Kanaya trailed off, slanting a sharp eye to Gamzee who rolled his shoulders in a semblance of a shrug. “It is no matter. I am sure our species differ in many inexplicable ways that will eventually become clear as we spend more time together. Your garments are finished; would you change so I can see if they need further adjustments?"

“Uh, here?"

“No, you may change in the nutrition block if our presence makes you uncomfortable."

“Thanks. Hold on one minute!" John accepted the bundles of cloth pushed into his arms and not-quite-limped into the nutrition block, a room he noticed that looked suspiciously like a kitchen, complete with pie tins filled with some sweet-smelling bubbling liquid.

He bent to get a better whiff of the liquid as he slipped out of his pants, pulling back and wrinkling his nose after it left the inside of his nostrils tingling much like something spicy would. A tug in his side reminded him that he still wasn’t fully healed and he carefully straightened, kneeling instead to retrieve the new pants and pulling them on. They felt more coarse against his skin, abrading him like tiny brush bristles and he quickly pulled them back down, tearing off a strip from his other pants and tying it in a makeshift bandage around his thigh, protecting the sensitive newly-healed skin.

He made short work of pulling the new tunic over his head, noting that it fell to just above his knees and was a little too loose around the collar and shoulders. The long sleeves were wide enough that he could spread his fingers and still had room to spare, and his bright aspect symbol lay right below his breastbone. He looked down and saw his clean toes peeking from underneath the bottom of the pants; the image he was certain he presented made him want to smile because it was so like the time he had once tried on his father’s suit. It had been at least three sizes too big and he felt like he swam in the cloth but at the same time it was so comforting that he had almost fallen asleep there on the floor.

Despite the roughness to the fabric he wore it lent the same feeling and he had to fight back a wave of homesickness and crushing sadness.

“You got your think pan on straight yet?"

Gamzee’s voice came from the doorway where he stood leaning against the wall, one hand holding the top of the doorframe and his head bent so to the tips of his horns didn’t scrape the wood. John blinked rapidly to clear the mistiness from his eyes and sniffed as quietly as he could, turning to the troll and twisting his lips in a semblance of a smile.

“Yep, I’m good! Although the clothes are a little too big."

Gamzee moved out of the way and John returned to the other room, tugging on the sleeves as he stood for Kanaya who stood from the floor and walked in a circle around him. John noted that she stood a good few inches taller than him, perhaps half a foot, maybe more, although she was still shorter than Gamzee. The tips of her horns just reached the male troll’s chin.

“Yes, it appears you are quite a small species. Are all humans built like you or are you just special?" She asked as she removed a small pair of scissors and a needle from her fetch modus, kneeling at his side to begin working on the waistband of the tunic.

“Well," John replied as he tried his best not to shift his weight from one foot to the other; he really didn’t want that needle anywhere near his skin. “I guess it varies? I mean, my dad is a little taller than you but he’s shorter than Gamzee. And people that play sports are usually a lot taller than me, and more muscular. I like to think I’m average. So does that mean other trolls are gonna be bigger than me?"

“Yes. Your size is very similar to trolls who have only recently pupated from their wiggler state, who haven’t quite grown into their adolescent bodies yet. You should be thankful that no adult trolls currently inhabit Alternia; many of them would be twice your size."

_Alternia,_ John thought as a trim of cloth began to fall to the floor. _But is it my Alternia? Could this be the past, or am I…?_

“Hey, bro? Your face be resembling that fucking symbol of yours."

The concern inherent in that voice broke through John’s thoughts and he shook his head. “Yep, I’m good! I was just thinking about some things. Um, so how come there aren’t any adults on your planet?"

A ping from Gamzee’s odd computer saved him from answering and John turned his gaze to Kanaya, although she kept her own trained on where her fingers were measuring the cloth. He couldn’t remember if Karkat or any of the other trolls had mentioned not having adults around and was curious enough to wonder.

“The Condesce seeks to conquer as many worlds in the vast universe as she can, and left our planet with a fleet of ships piloted by our adults many sweeps ago. We have lusii to care for us, and the Mother Grub lays many eggs every other sweep for new trolls. Adults are therefore not needed here and would only use up valuable resources if they remained on Alternia. There, that seems to be about the right length. If you like, over the next few days I can create a couple of other outfits like this for you. They won’t be very fancy, of course…"

John waved off her concerns as she stood, dusting off her skirt and pocketing her sewing supplies. He really wanted to ask more about whatever a ‘lusii' was but there was a pensive look on the female troll’s face that suggested the topic was best left for another time, perhaps when the two of them were alone.

“I am afraid I must be returning to my hive now; my matesprit is likely destroying things because of my absence. However, I am very curious about your species. Would you like to exchange Trollian handles so that we can converse over Skaianet?"

“Sure! I’d like that a lot. But, um, I don’t use Trollian. I have Pesterchum though! It’s pretty much the same thing, I guess? I’m not really sure. But I can give you my chum handle." He searched around for a piece of paper to write his handle on, frowning when he noticed that there wasn’t anything useful for writing on in the room.

He shrugged and uncaptchalogued a movie poster and blue marker, catching both before they could fly out the window or somewhere else unfortunate. He wrote his name and chumhandle on the back of the poster and handed it to Kanaya, blinking behind his glasses when it disappeared in some gray object covered in chains. That was certainly a strange fetch modus that he was sure was hard to retrieve objects from!

“Thank you; I will contact you later so you may have my Trollian handle as well. I am sure we won’t encounter much difficulty between the two programs. If we do, my moirail is a hacker that will be able to connect them in some way for communication. Gamzee, I am taking my leave now. I will contact you later about arranging meet-up times."

“See ya, sis," Gamzee replied in a manner that implied he was distracted by the wall of purple-violet text that John could just see on his computer.

It seemed important so John chose not to bother him, instead uncaptchaloguing his own Cosbytop and booting up the customized computer. A few tabs were blinking at the bottom of the screen, showing that at some point he had received messages from one of his friends, but when he clicked on the tab to read the message it showed that all of his friends were offline.

He bit his lip and read over the first messages from Jade."

\--gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at ??:??  
GG: on nooo!!!  
GG: john, im so sorry, i didnt mean for this to happen!  
GG: i mean, im not exactly sure what happened really…  
GG: i just didnt want you to get hurt!  
GG: :((  
GG: space kind of screwed up  
GG: or bec noir did  
GG: or maybe both  
GG: the sprites dont know what happened either!  
GG: i hope wherever you are that youre safe, because i sure cant find you!  
GG: contact me if you can when you get these messages!  
GG: pesterchum is saying they arent going through though  
GG: oh…  
GG: im so sorry john!  
gardenGnostic [GG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at ??:??

Well, those messages were even more frightening than he thought they were going to be. So Jade didn’t know where he was, or how he got there? And neither did the sprites who, while they weren’t always the most helpful, did understand a lot about the game constructs. That also meant that Jade probably wouldn’t be able to help him get home.

John swiped at his eyes and typed out a few responses, even knowing they probably wouldn’t get through yet, if they ever managed to get to her.

ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] at 23:01  
gardenGnostic [GG] is offline!  
EB: hey jade.  
EB: i’m safe, i guess.  
EB: i think i’m on alternia?  
EB: i’ve met some trolls anyway, and they’re really nice!  
EB: i haven’t been able to ask any of them if they know about the game yet though.  
EB: i’ve also still got my god tier outfit, although it’s pretty torn up! and i can still fly, and use the wind, but it’s a lot harder than it was in our session.  
EB: so i wonder if i’m in a different session now.  
EB: but i really don’t know.  
EB: so um…  
EB: …….  
EB: i hope you get these messages, jade. i miss you guys and while these are cool trolls, i don’t think they’re our trolls.  
EB: i’ll message you again if i figure out where i am.  
ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering gardenGnostic [GG] at 23:10

John turned off his computer and glanced at his savior, finding the troll staring at a point on the wall, his own electronic device sitting idly in front of him. John was hesitant to disturb Gamzee but his stomach chose that moment to growl rather loudly and just like that Gamzee’s attention snapped over to him as if he had never been distracted.

“Was that your belly making the call of the hoofbeast, friend? I guess I been a grievous host, forgetting about our motherfucking horror show in the nutritionblock."

“Oh, it’s fine! I mean, I guess I am hungry but if you want I can make us something? I’m really only good at making cake and pastries though, so if you don’t mind sweets…" He stopped when Gamzee rose so fast he nearly upset the table and his computer, a not-quite giggle sounding. “I guess you like that idea, then?"

“Sure, man! If cakes are being anything like the wicked fancy what being pies then I say get started on those sickhairy creations." Even his voice raised an octave with what could only be excitement at the prospect of the confectioneries.

John grinned for real, hardly even self-conscious of the overly large buck teeth that poked against the skin underneath his lip. There was just something about that childish gleam showing on that scarred face that kick-started all of his friendly instincts. “I’ll get started right away! But you looked kind of busy earlier. If you want, I can go bake right now and call you into the kit-uh, the nutritionblock when they’re ready to decorate? I mean, baking really only needs one person to do the actual cooking…"

There was a pause as Gamzee considered the decision very seriously, his eyes flitting between his husktop and John. John stood there as the moment stretched on, resisting the urge to shuffle his feet or twiddle his thumbs. At last Gamzee returned to his seat, his visage a picture of regret.

“Suppose I can’t all up and leave my bro in the motherfucking fluffy sun blockers."

“It’s okay, Gamzee. It won’t take very long to mix the ingredients together, and you can help out next time, okay?"

“Sure thing, my blueblooded brother."

And John sauntered his way into the troll kitchen with the knowledge that he had chosen the correct response without knowing why it was that he wanted to dispel the sadness that had begun clouding Gamzee’s features.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John spends more time baking than he thought he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize once more for the lateness of this chapter, as well as the quality and the shortness. I don't like it but it's where the story is leading me right now so I hope you guys will enjoy it more than I do. I also edited the first two chapters, just little things and a pesterlog or two, which for some reason formatted weirdly because the skin didn't work, so when you have time, please go back and reread those.

Baking was a therapeutic, if somewhat nostalgic pastime for John now that the world had officially ended for those who played the Sburb game. While he never really grew to enjoy the overly sweet treats he created, he had come to enjoy the act of baking with Nannasprite while on the Prospitian ship. The two of them had used the time to swap stories and game secrets. While the ingredients he found in the cupboards had unfamiliar looks and names, such as moobeast secretion and grub powder, the tastes seemed similar enough that he could make substitutes without feeling like he was going to be making some horrendous concoction that would send them running to the bathroom.

In minutes he had cleared the table of the odd pie and the counters of the remnants of whatever was used to make that pie, a new dish had been cleaned and the ingredients were mixed together in a ceramic bowl. While the dish wasn’t ideal for baking a cake in, it was the best he could find and the batter poured smoothly into its metal surface. There was a hole in the middle of it so he was pretty sure it would turn into a kind of Bundt cake which was okay, and he was pretty sure Gamzee would be excited about it either way.

The cake was smoothed out with a plastic spatula he managed to eject from his fetch modus, wincing when it clanked against the counter; for some reason he had never gotten the hang of retrieving items from his sylladex with the ease he was sure his friends had perfected. In minutes he had the concoction placed in the appliance that resembled an oven and set a timer, cleaning up the areas he had dirtied more out of habit than because he thought Gamzee would appreciate it.

Another bowl was used for the icing he made from the off-white sweet-tasting paste in one of the cupboards, and John added some food colouring from his sylladex to make it a close approximation of Gamzee’s symbol colour. He made another, smaller batch of icing that he put in a piping bag and placed on the counter for when he needed it, limping back into the living room and sitting with a grateful sigh on the floor. The skin over his leg and side wounds were aching just from moving back and forth in the small space and he tried to ignore the feeling that he needed to scratch the areas.

“Ten more minutes, Gamzee!"

“Bitchin, bro." Gamzee typed out a response, his fingers moving surprisingly quickly for all that John could see he was using the shift key every other letter. He didn’t wait for a response as he turned away from the husktop and faced John, his gaze sharper than it had been all day. The intensity he leveled on John was disconcerting and he fought the urge to squirm like a child as he waited for the troll to speak.

“Kurloz made some fucking noise at me; he been saying he’ll be back afore the moons sleep."

“Moons? You have more than one?" John asked, deciding to save his other question on whom Gamzee was referring to until after his curiosity was sated.

“Sure, don’t every troll? We got Derse and motherfucking Prospit. You can see them now." He stood and ambled over to the door, opening it and pointing up at the red and purple sky where two moons could indeed be seen.

“I was just surprised because where I come from we have two moons too! Prospit’s my favourite but, uh, then it was destroyed."

“Shit, man, really? Who the fuck would commit such a sacrilege by killing our exalted moon? Prospit is the most heinous of moons what been to dream on." Gamzee sounded shocked by the very notion, with an undertone of rage that raised the hair on the back of John’s neck.

He self-consciously rubbed the hairs back down even as he replied, “I know! I didn’t get to spend any time on it before it was destroyed; well I mean not awake. Um, so who is Kurloz? I don’t remember you talking about him before."

Before Gamzee could answer the timer in the kitchen began to buzz and both of them jumped, startled at the sudden noise. John levered himself upright and pointed at the open doorway. “It’s time for the cake to come out. Are you going to help me decorate it? I didn’t see anything that would make cupcakes so I’m afraid it’s only one big cake to colour…"

The two of them walked into the kitchen and he turned off the timer, grabbing a rag from the counter and pulling the cake from the oven. It looked burnt with its dark brown colour but when he poked it with a fork the silverware went in without any trouble; if anything he noticed it was a bit undercooked. Still, it smelled heavenly with a heavy nutty scent, which confused him because none of the ingredients he had used looked or smelled like nuts.

Despite the unusual colour and smell, Gamzee was staring at the tin full of cake like it was the greatest thing since sliced cheese. The unwavering intensity he had been exhibiting earlier disappeared under an almost childlike wonder as he stared at the cake and icing on the table.

“Um, it’ll need to cool for a couple of minutes. Let’s see, oh, a plate! Let me just-" He paused and searched about for a platter, finding one made of either stone or metal, which he quickly scrubbed and dried before placing on the table. He flipped the cake onto it and hunted two small rubber spatulas from his sylladex, handing one to Gamzee. “Now, cakes are fragile so when you decorate it you don’t want to use a lot of force, okay? Like uh, like this."

He demonstrated with his own spatula, scooping up a small amount of the violet icing and smoothing it over the side of the cake. It was a little lumpier than he was used to but he knew it tasted okay, and it didn’t clump onto the utensil like he was used to. He spread the icing all over the circumference of the cake and stepped away, handing the spatula to the troll with a grin.

Gamzee’s slender fingers were wrapped around his own bone spatula, his nails scraping against one another with every little movement he made. He didn’t move towards the cake and John paused, biting his lip as he tried to read just what was making the other nervous.

He tentatively offered, “Do you want me to help you with the first couple of strokes? I mean, it won’t matter if you make a mess; the cake will taste the same either way. The only thing that’ll matter is how much there will be to clean and that’s nothing to worry about!"

His voice seemed to shake Gamzee from his trance and he shook his head, his smile taking on a slightly perplexed look. “Nah, brother, I got my pan all grasping at the complexity of what right motherfucking solid pie you cooked up. I ain’t never seen such an offering. And it’s all done up at in my colour!"

He sounded so shocked and wondrous that John couldn’t stop his relieved giggle from sounding in the room. There was just something about creating something that someone clearly loved so much that filled him with such joy, enough to combat his early melancholy. “I’m glad you like it! You can finish colouring it any way you like with…hm, do you want any more colours to play with? I have a whole array of food colouring in my sylladex."

Gamzee was already playing with the icing in his colour, swirling it around and dipping a finger in the bowl to taste it. A hum of contentment sounded, loud and lusty enough that John found himself blushing and turning away from the gray face that was rapidly turning a colour not unlike the one spread everywhere in the hive. He scooped up another taste, and another, and John was about to remind him that they needed the icing for the cake when Gamzee caught sight of the cake and seemed to remind himself. The spatula was used to collect more icing than was strictly necessary and applied with a hair more gusto than John would have used but he didn’t have it in him to reprimand Gamzee for his enthusiasm.

Instead, he turned to the second cake he had made, a slightly smaller version of the first one, and mixed up a batch of icing that he coloured with enough green to a close approximation of the symbol Kanaya had worn on her outfit. It wasn’t perfect, but neither was Gamzee’s and his colours but he didn’t think being a shade or two off was important enough to cause dissent between them. He covered the cake in a light layer of the sweetness and found a smaller bowl, mentally looking through his sylladex for some kind of icing gel, the kind he had seen his father use often enough.

John found one called Sparkle Gel in a beautiful jade and uncaptchalogued it with a near silent cry of delight, quickly unscrewing it and positioning himself over the cake. He drew a (very inaccurate but cute!) picture of Kanaya, complete with fangs and sharp horns and pointy hair, and wrote out a short message thanking her for her assist with the clothes. He signed it in his own colour, which again wasn’t quite the shade he was looking for, and added his aspect symbol next to it.

“Well, Gamzee? What do you think of my thank you to Kanaya?" He turned with the cake in hand and nearly dropped it when he saw Gamzee standing, the skin around his mouth and cheeks liberally covered in icing with his hands just as bad, even his hair sprinkled with the eye-catching shade. His eyes were lit with delight and he just looked so joyful that John only laughed, not a mocking sound of his own enjoyment that Gamzee quickly joined in on. “What the heck did you do, Gamzee? Don’t you know you’re supposed to wait until after you decorate the cake to eat the icing?"

Gamzee looked a little apologetic at the gentle reprimand but John thought he understood that he wasn’t really mad at the troll for making a mess. “Shit, man, I done alchemized that miraculous pie into this fucking masterpiece."

John peered around him at the cake, his lips twitching to stop another giggle fit. “Yep, that’s certainly quite a masterpiece! I’ve created quite a few in my lifetime and I can tell you, that is certainly a Grade A Miracle right there."

The cake had become a little lopsided with the troll’s efforts to cover it in purple, and he could see where a couple pieces had broken away from the main baked good, and the icing wasn’t evenly applied but it was readily apparent that someone had decorated the cake with love. Rapt attention had even been applied to carving out what looked like little goat heads and Capricorn symbols over the sides and center. Gamzee looked pleased with the praise of his cake, if the wide open grin pulling at his cheeks was anything to go by. John took it as a good time to ask for a little favour. “Hey, Gamzee? Um, if you have time later could you take this one to Kanaya? It’s for helping me with the clothes, since I don’t have any money to give her. And I tried to make it in her colour; I hope she likes it."

Gamzee took the cake, automatically captchalouging it into a modus that swirled around with no apparent rhyme or reason before it disappeared in a quiet poof. “What the fuck kinda piece was that? You put some strange fucking symbols on it."

“It was a thank you message! For Kanaya. Oh, and I signed my name. But do you think you could take it to her tonight? It won’t be any good if she gets it later.."

“Yeah, I can travel over to my jade sister for a tick. Kurloz will all up and been arriving soon. He kinda looks like me? Got the fuckin face of the subjugglators so don’t be all like to be bringing the fearterrors into where your hearts all up in at, you hear?" Gamzee looked a little worried, his lips drooping down at the corners as if he could picture the interaction already.

John started piling the dirty dishes into the sink as he thought that over. “So basically another guy will be showing up who looks like you? Face paint and all? And I shouldn’t be afraid of him? Um, I’ll try my best not to! Actually, I think I might try to take a nap after I finish cleaning up here; I’m still kind of tired. And if you need to, you know, run some errands while you’re out, and don’t worry about me, okay? Because you seemed worried about your friend earlier."

“Sure thing, friend. I guess I oughtta be getting all my gander bulbs on my pale bro while he’s down in the corpse box and ignoring the shit’s life. You snooze like a fucking purrbeast."

There was another poof and quiet footsteps leading out of the room and John breathed a little sigh heavy with weariness. He hadn’t been lying when he said he was still tired but at the same time he wondered if maybe he just wanted to sleep to escape whatever reality he had been thrown into. He thought he might try to ask Gamzee about the trolls he had interacted with from his universe to see if they were around, and if they might know anything about him, other humans, or the game.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John chats with some trolls and reveals some information, and is reminded of just how alien trolls really are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you gone back and glanced through the changes I made in the first two chapters? I hope so because the pairings that are hinted at probably aren't the ones you're expecting, and I'd rather you not be surprised at a later date when the finally come to light. Also, there's a smidgen of plot in this chapter. Really.

The weirdest sensation prickling the back of his neck woke John up from a sound sleep where he dreamt he was wrapped in the spindly arms of the jester doll his father kept in the living room. They weren't pleasant dreams but his hatred of the things had lessened, mostly due in part to the fact that he wouldn't mind having them around if it meant seeing Dad again. Still, he was glad when he slid back into awareness and those mocking beady eyes disappeared.

Of course, finding himself staring into narrow pupils that emitted a bright purple light, the colour a different shade than the previous ones he’d seen before and he couldn't quite stop himself from bolting upright and scooting backward a few feet in an automatic reaction of fear to the close individual.

Those eyes flared briefly brighter and his whole body developed goose bumps before he visibly shook himself and turned his gaze away from those slightly terrifying orbs of light to the person, troll who bore them. The off-purple color was filling the entire eye socket rather than just the pupils like he had seen on Gamzee, and it was definitely glowing in a way that not even outside light could produce. The rest of the troll’s face was obscured with paint, the white applied with a pattern resembling a skull if a bit childish and around the eyes in a shape not unlike a superhero mask. Dark gray lips were closed and tilted in a fierce frown, thin black lines lined parallel from one side of its mouth to the other.

The thick black hair was a little wild but John could see where it was curled up in places and down in others, almost as if it were styled because when the troll tilted its head to the side as it studied John the hair didn't sway. It also seemed to cover only a few inches of the troll’s horns which bore a striking resemblance to Gamzee's, if a bit longer and maybe a hair thicker, yet it branched outward quite a bit from the sharp, angular face. His eyes flicked downward and he studied the leotard-like outfit the troll wore, as black as night with a cartoon skeleton printed on the front. Other than the splash of purple that resembled short shorts on those lean hips, showing a faint outline of sharp hipbones, and those steadily-growing-fiercer eyes the troll was the epitome of a dark villain-type character, clothed in black and an aura of menace bleeding outward.

Once John compartmentalized his terror and took a moment to study the troll, ignoring the trickles of sweat making their way down his temple and back of his neck, he noted the other characteristics this troll shared with Gamzee. The body structure that wasn't just lean, but actually gaunt enough to be worrisome; the wild hair and exact horns; the obvious eye colour if a different shade; the fact that they both were nearing seven feet. The last dregs of sleep left John’s mind and he came to the conclusion that this was surely Kurloz, Gamzee’s inversed brother or whatever he had called it. He tried to smile and was about to speak when a stabbing pain went through his skull, centered in his forehead and a booming, hoarse voice echoed by shrieks sounded.

WHAT MANNER OF MOTHER FUCKING BEAST IS THIS HEIR WHO DOTH TRESPASS IN THE HIVE OF THE WHAT ALL AND LIKE A RAGING PRINCE?

John slapped his hands over his ears but the barrier of skin and bone did nothing to prevent the oozing black from penetrating his skull as he felt what could only be described as claws tearing at his insides.

THINE SICKENING BREATH BE UNWELCOME AMONGST THE ZEALOTS, MUTANT, AND THINE ATROCIOUS VISAGE CALLS UPON THE WICKED VIOLENCE WHAT BEEN REPRESSED ALL THESE YEARS.

He felt like he was choking as emotions he had never felt before surfaced. Not even the pain and rage he had felt when coming across his and Rose’s murdered parents felt like this all-consuming insanity welling within his being until he felt like his head would explode. He struggled to shove the feelings down and remember that Gamzee had told him not to fear Kurloz.

Like a switch had been flipped the crippling shrieks and pain were gone and John was left woozy in the aftermath, blinking fast to clear the tears he hadn't known were clouding his eyes. When he could see again he lifted his gaze and saw Kurloz staring back at him, the glow gone and leaving behind regular troll eyes filled with color. The stitched mouth was still turned down in a frown but the aura of violence and murder was gone and it felt like John was sitting in front of a sprite or other human rather than a possibly homicidal troll.

He fought to figure out just what had caused the sudden change in attitude when Kurloz spoke again, although spoke was a relative term as the voice, minus the echo, sounded between his ears and those lips didn't move.

SPILL THAT WICKED NOISE AT ME FUCKER IN HOW THINE BLASPHEMOUS SELF GOT THY FUCKING FINGERS ON THE TIGHTEST OF PIOUS BEINGS.

John removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, shuddering even though the mental touch wasn't violent as it had been before. He worked through the voice to figure out just what it was asking. “Who’s a pious being? Are you talking about Gamzee? Sure, he mentioned something religious at one point-" He shut his mouth when one hand raised up and made a quick slicing motion in the air.

SILENCE THY IMPERTINENT UTTERANCES WHAT EGRESS SUCH UNPALATABLE LIPS. WHAT NEWS BEGETS ONE DEGRADING DEVIL WHO DESPAIRS FOR NAUGHT AT THE PRACTICES OF THE MIRTHFUL MESSIAHS?

There were still lingering traces of fear, or rather John’s body couldn't quite relax with the remembrance of those ‘fearterrors,' but even he had a limit to how much he could take when it came to being shushed. He felt annoyance flare up as his hands fisted near his stomach. “Hey, you can’t silence me then ask me questions! At least let me explain myself, since I think that’s what you want!" He felt a trickle in his brain and assumed it was a prelude to Kurloz speaking; he copied the troll’s motion and sliced his hand in the air to prevent him from speaking. “No, I’m going to talk now! Gamzee found me on the beach and brought me here to help me. I’m not a beast and I’m not trespassing; I have permission to be here. He’s been helping me out and we decorated a cake together and I’m sure we’re going to be good friends!"

Alright, so his tone might have turned a bit petulant at the end and there was a definite “so there!" in his tone that really shouldn't have belonged there. His cheeks were flushed with blood by the time he finished speaking and for some reason he was panting but he kept his gaze locked with those narrowed eyes, refusing to back down.  
Kurloz leant forward and inhaled deeply through his nose, a rumble that wasn't quite a sound in the air. He rocked back on his heels as the other _spoke_ once more.

THY TRUTH BEEN A DELICACY UPON MY VOODOOS, SKEPTIC. YOU BEAR A PROLIFIC MENTALITY A WHAT BEEN HASHIN MY NUBS. YOUR BREATH BE HARSH BUT THE MESSIAHS DEEM THY WORTHFUL E MOTHERFUCKIN NOUGH FOR MINE ABODE IN HUMBLE.

“Uh, thanks? You’re letting me stay, right? I mean, that’s what your-" John broke off when one near pencil-thin finger raised upward in a gesture so universal he once again found his face flooding with heat.

Kurloz stood without another word and ambled out the door, ducking to make his way through its frame. When the room was clear save him John glanced around and recalled that he had made his way into Gamzee’s room after finishing the dishes, where he had crashed on the floor once more. This time he had remembered an extra set of bed sheets and had removed them from his sylladex, accidentally knocking over two bottles of Faygo in the process, and used them as coverage while he slept. They weren't very warm normally but Gamzee’s house, or rather hive was exceptionally warm and he almost hadn't needed them while he slept.

John’s Cosbytop pinged at him and he startled, catching the object as it ejected itself from his sylladex. He wasn't sure how it had done that without his input but his inventory management system had done stranger things in the past. He set the machine on his lap and opened up Pesterchum, finding a new contact blinking with a message for him.

\-- grimAuxiliatrix [GA] began trolling ectoBiologist [EB] at 19:30 --

GA: I Hope Im Not To Presumptuous In Contacting You This Early John  
GA: Im Afraid Im Not Aware Of The Sleeping Habits Of Humans  
GA: Therefore I Decided That Now On The Cusp Of Dawn Would Be A Safe Assessment Of When To Contact You  
GA: I Had Originally Planned On Starting Our Correspondence By Discussing More Garments I Wish To Craft For You  
GA: However I Recently Acquired A Most Apposite Gift From A Jovial Trollfellow  
GA: Im Lead To Believe This Gift Came From A Human Whos Blood Is Not Actually Blue  
EB: ha yeah i made that cake for you in thanks for the clothes! did you like it? :B  
GA: It Was A Delightful And Unique Gift  
GA: Im Afraid That Normally When Im Presented An Edible Present From Gamzee I Dont Accept  
GA: Its the Sopor You Understood  
EB: nope, not really. but i made it so i guess you don’t have to worry?  
EB: it’s just a cake. but i taste-tested it and everything so you don’t have to worry about anything!  
GA: My Worries Have Safely Been Laid To Rest In Thanks To Your Pleasant Demeanor And Trustworthy Manner  
EB: what, seriously?  
GA: Is There A Problem  
EB: nope, no problem! it was just weird the way you phrased that and i was trying to decide if you were sarcastic or not.  
GA: What Is Sarcastic  
EB: i’ll tell you later.  
GA: I Suppose I Might Have Sounded A Bit Unsure But Youve Given Me No Reason To Distrust You So Far  
EB: speaking of gamzee. Well, not him but i met his brother earlier? kurloz?  
EB: he’s a really weird troll!  
GA: Kurloz Is A Troll On The Cusp Of Adulthood Who Is Aspiring To Traipse In The Frond Nubs Of The Greatest Subjugglator Whom Ever Existed  
GA: I Am Speaking Of The Grand Highblood In Case You Were About To Inquire  
EB: oh, thanks, i wouldn't have guessed!  
EB: not that i know what a subjugglator is…  
GA: Your Finish Crumbs Lead Me To Believe You Were About To Say More  
GA: Or Perhaps Ask Me To Elaborate On The Profession  
EB: no, i don’t think i really want to know. besides, judging by the root word in there it’s bound to be terrifying!  
GA: What Is A Root Word  
EB: oh, when we humans run into a snag with our language we dig a hole and bury blank pieces of paper! in a couple of weeks the paper sprouts into these little seedlings which grow into trees, and from the trees we pick more paper that has words written on it!  
EB: those words are called root words.  
EB: (hahahaha)  
GA: Really  
GA: I Feel As If Your Comments Just Now Were Insincere  
GA: Reading Them Leads Me To Believe You Are Attempting A Form Of Trolling On Me  
GA: I Will Warn You Your Attempts Are Falling Flat  
EB: well that’s up to you to believe what you want!  
EB: i obviously can’t change your mind.  
EB: anyway, is gamzee on his way back to the house?  
EB: i mean hive.  
EB: because between you and me i kind of don’t want to be left here alone with kurloz.  
GA: Why Is That  
GA: Has Kurloz Attempted To Harm You  
GA: Trolls Who Are Between The Pupations Of Adolescence And Adulthood Are Generally Violent But Not To The Extreme Such As to Attack Without Provocation  
GA: And You Do Not Seem To Be The Type Who Would Provoke Such A Dangerous Troll  
GA: Nor Do You Seem To Be Oblivious Enough Not To Notice That Kurloz Is One Such Dangerous Troll Perhaps The Most You Will Come Across  
GA: John I Would Appreciate A Response To My Inquiry  
GA: Are You Harmed  
GA: John  
GA: Ellipsis  
EB: sorry kanaya! there was this really loud honking noise from somewhere in the living room and it scared me.  
EB: it turns out it was just kurloz moving around but boy did he give me a strange look when i asked what the noise was!  
EB: and by funny i mean he smiled. actually smiled!  
GA: I Fail To See What Is So Funny About That  
GA: In Fact I Believe It Would Fall Upon The Sensation Of Mildly Fearful If We Are Discussing What Emotions Such A Sight Would Elicit  
EB: yeah by funny i meant strange. anyway, no he didn't do anything to hurt me. i mean not physically.  
EB: or any other way. really i’m fine! so is gamzee heading back yet?  
GA: I Sent Him On His Way Shortly After He Arrived At My Hive  
GA: That Is To Say Judging By The Distance Between Our Hives He Should Arrive Before The Bustle Of The Night Has Fully Begun  
GA: I Can Contact Him For You To Urge Him To Speed His Progress  
EB: no it’s cool! i’m as cool as a cucumber.  
EB: um, are you busy?  
GA: No I Am Merely Trimming The Hem On A Dress My Matesprit Asked Me To Craft For Her  
EB: what’s a matesprit?  
GA: John Has Your Lusus Not Spoken With You On The Quadrants  
EB: what are quadrants?  
GA: Ellipsis  
EB: I Apologize But I Find That I Really Dont Want To Explain Such An Elaborate Topic To You  
EB: oh wait i think i remember talking about this with karkat! he said you guys had four types of romance but i didn't pay much attention to it because it was really boring and shitty and i had to concentrate on fighting ogres.  
GA: You Have Spoken To Karkat  
GA: When Did You Receive His Trolltag  
GA : I Know That I Did Not Give It To You  
GA: And Trollian Is Not A Client Which Allows Trolls To Share Their Contacts With Other Trolls  
GA: John Your Persistent Pauses Are Beginning To Alarm Me  
GA: I Suppose I Could Contact Karkat And Ask Him How He Came To Know About Your Presence When Only The Makara Hivemates And I Are Aware Of You  
EB: i was thinking, sorry! and i wasn't talking about YOUR karkat, i was talking about a troll i know who’s also named karkat!  
EB: he’s kind of helpful but also a big jerk who trolled me and some friends of mine when we were playing a game and has no appreciation for the good films.  
EB: he became a really good friend of mine! but i don’t think he’s the karkat you know.  
EB: i mean, i actually wanted to ask you and gamzee if there was a chance i could meet some of the trolls here? in the future, i mean, not right now.  
EB: because obviously i don’t belong here and i need to find a way to get back to where i came from. i left my friend right in the middle of a battle!  
EB: :(  
EB: well, i didn't mean to, she actually teleported me away but still! i should be there helping her!  
GA: This Information Youre Supplying Me With Is Quite Interesting John  
GA: Are You Implying That You Arent From A Planet Near Alternia  
GA: I Admit I Had Assumed You Came To This Planet On A Ship As A Stowaway When One Of The Battleships Came Across Your Planet But I Believe You Are Implying Otherwise  
EB: he he yeah no, i didn't come here on a ship. i don’t really know the details, just that jade did some kind of spacey thing with her powers and sent me here. which was totally stupid because i've become an awesome fighter with my hammer!  
EB: in fact i haven’t seen her use her rifle in almost a year so i bet she’s way out of practice with it and could definitely be using my help right now!  
EB: kanaya?  
GA: Sorry I Was Thinking About How You Said You Were Teleported Here And What That Would Mean  
EB: does it have to mean anything?  
GA: General Information Such As That Always Has Some Meaning Behind It  
EB: uh huh.  
EB: anyway can you not tell anyone about this? i mean you said trolls are dangerous, especially the adults, and you also said there aren’t any adults on the planet but i really don’t want to get in trouble with anyone when i’m not even supposed to be here.  
GA: While I Hesitate At Keeping Such Possibly Important Information From The Proper Flaysquad I Also Enjoy Your Company Quite A Bit And Wouldnt Want To Deprive Myself Of Such Enjoyment Due To The Fast Action Of A Threshecutioner  
EB: hm…  
EB: i don’t really get a couple of the words you’re using but it sounds ominous all the same so thanks!  
EB: i’m pretty sure you won’t regret this!  
GA: I Find Myself Doubtful Of That  
EB: he he.  
GA: I Believe Ill Go Now For Youve Given Me A Lot To Think About  
GA: Ill Also Consider Your Request On Meeting Other Trolls  
GA: Ill Probably Bring My Moirail Over To See You But My Matesprit Isnt As Stable Since Her Own Moirail Broke Up With Her  
EB: oh, i’m sorry?  
GA: You Dont Need To Be  
GA: Have A Pleasant Evening And Please Contact Me If Kurloz Gives You Any Trouble Or Threatens To Harm You In Any Way  
GA: And Pay Attention To His Chucklevoodoos  
EB: okay! see you!

\-- grimAuxiliatrix [GA] ceased trolling ectoBiologist [EB] at 20:25 --

John clicked the “accept request" from Kanaya and grinned when her Trolltag was added to his Chums list and subsequently greyed out to show that she had either closed her own computer or logged off. He followed suit, leaving his Cosbytop on the desk in the corner of the room, next to Gamzee's computer. He carefully avoided the various wires attached to the machine, deliberately not thinking about the fact that they might have wiggled when he got too close.

With only a little hesitation he left Gamzee's room and made his way into the bathroom where he preceded to fumble his way through the controls of the alien shower, relieved when he found his wounds as good as new with only a few scars added to his body. It was much easier to move his leg, although the skin continued to be sensitive to the touch.

 _This’ll make it easier to fight Bec Noir!_ The thought entered his mind as he toweled off and he paused, wondering just when his inner thoughts had turned from jokes and shitty awesome movies to how soon he could return to the battlefield. It was disconcerting and more than a little alarming, even if his instincts had steadily grown sharper (when it pertained to being in the middle of a fight, not so much concerning less life-threatening things) and he’d grown fitter as the game continued. So while there were downsides to getting used to being in a fight for his life constantly there were some upsides as well, although recognizing his mindset changing was still off-putting.

He redressed in his modified God Tier robes and finger-brushed his hair as he left the bathroom, twitching his body into the wall as Kurloz rounded the corner and nearly collided with him. A furious, clouded gaze shook him enough that he curled himself closer the wall in an effort to make himself appear smaller as those phantom fingers trickled in his brain; they drew away after that first touch with the sensation of a very real pain in his skull, enough to draw his palm upward to rub at the spot.

Kurloz disappeared into the bathroom without a word, the door slamming closed in his wake. John didn't wait to see if he’d stay there. He hurried down the hallway, pausing outside of Gamzee’s room when he heard someone muttering under their breath. He couldn't understand what was being said but it sounded like Gamzee so he grinned and walked into the room, halting a few feet from the doorway when he spotted Gamzee pulling a shirt over his naked torso, his other shirt tossed carelessly on the floor and stained with something blue.

He thought about backing out of the room as he tried to figure out what the stains could be but as he was taking a step backward he noticed the careful way Gamzee was moving, his left arm not lifting higher than his shoulders and his torso curved a bit downward. Something had obviously happened while he was gone and since Kanaya hadn't mentioned anything he could only assume it had happened on the way home. The thought of Gamzee injured was terrifying and he stiffened his spine and spoke.

“You’re back! How come you didn't tell me when you first showed up?"

John’s prominent teeth pressed to his lips when Gamzee froze with his hands adjusting the bottom of his shirt, his shoulders slumping prior to the troll twisting around with what could only be called a wary grin twisting his lips. His face paint was smeared around his mouth; some of it was scraped off near his ear; and the yellow of his eyes wasn't as bright as it had been before. In fact when John squinted he noticed with an unpleasant jolt that in the moment before Gamzee spoke he resembled Kurloz more like a twin than a brother.

Fortunately when he did speak the effect disappeared and he seemed once more the careless troll who smiled too widely for his species. “Hey, bro, how the motherfuck are you? I heard my invertebrother made some fuckin wicked noise at you and I all up and told him that desecration ain't all sacred like in my hive."

John waved off the comment, even though both encounters were fresh in his mind. “It’s fine. I mean, you told me not to be scared of him, right? And I guess I didn't listen. But he didn't hurt me! I told Kanaya that too; he didn't bother me and I stayed out of his way so it’s okay." He shifted on his feet when Gamzee continued to study him with acute focus and for some reason he was starting to feel like when he was a kid and his father had caught him doing something improper.

He squared his shoulders and took a stance so manly his dad would have been proud of and leveled a scowl at Gamzee. “I said it’s fine! You’re back and I want to know what happened. You look like you took on some imps that just wouldn't quit."

Gamzee’s posture returned to a slouch as he reached for a bag on the floor that hadn't been there earlier, untying the string at the top and removing a rag that looked like wool, tossing it onto the floor and removing two discs next.

“I done went and appropriated a motherfucking sun blocker and some roms for you! I all thought we could kick back and enjoy the most salty of motherfucking miracles what ever did exist on Alternia."

“Wait, are you saying you bought some movies to watch?" It was a rather abrupt change of subject but the prospect of finally viewing some of the films Karkat had always claimed were superior to Earth movies in every way was too tantalizing to resist.

“Brother, I up and secured the fucking grodiest of roms, you don’t even know. Now, I won’t been to disgrace them before we get our gander bulbs at them so you go park your bad self on the pile. I’ll just be all grabbin my husktop and lay siege at this here com. No, no, grab that wicked elixir and stay."

John tried to maintain his frown but his excitement was getting the better of him and he finally relented, carefully settling himself on the horn hoard and only jumping at the first few honks that sounded. Well, now I know what that noise from before was, he thought as he pressed his back to the wall and picked up one of the unopened Faygo bottles scattered around, uncaptchaloguing a box of Fruit Gushers and placing it next to him on the pile while he waited.

In the following minutes Gamzee did something with his computer, removing it from the wires connecting it to whatever was behind and/or beneath the desk and carried it over the pile where he proceeded to collapse in a boneless mound next to John, his computer somehow remaining unscathed and harmless on his knees. There was a flurry of chuckles from him at the barrage of honks that resounded from the bike horns and the carefree noise was so infectious that John joined in with his own snorting giggles that were just shy of embarrassing.

It took the two of them quite a few minutes to calm themselves enough to start the movie on Gamzee’s computer and John trained his eyes on the screen facing him but he kept getting distracted by the blinking tab at the bottom of the screen. In the end he couldn't contain his curiosity, nor could he concentrate on the previews showing so he had to ask about it.

“Hey, Gamzee? Isn't one of your friends trying to talk to you?"

The troll in question didn't offer the tab more than a spare glance, his attention focused on the window showing the movie. “Naw, bro, it’s just all to be like a vexatious fool, see? He’ll been wearing himself out with his motherfuckin shouting at me. We all got to be like fronting with him what he acts like this."

“I don’t really get it but I guess I do? You’re just letting him talk himself down, right? I do that with my friend Dave sometimes, when he starts talking in his ridiculously long metaphors. As long as you’re not needed anywhere…" He let the sentence trail off, unsure what else he could say on the matter.

“Yeah, let’s settle and quit that noise."

“Alright. Can I press play?"

One of Gamzee’s horns scraped against the wall as he nodded and John pressed what he hoped was the enter button; it was in the same place as the one on his keyboard so he was pretty sure it was. He stiffened briefly when Gamzee stretched out on the pile, sending a few horns skittering across the floor, and one of his bony arms settled on the wall behind John, encasing him in a mild coolness and blocking his back from the sharp rocky texture of the wall. He made himself relax when he reminded himself that it wasn’t anything remotely romantic-like; the two of them were just getting comfortable on a very uncomfortable alien-like structure and he didn’t have to worry.

The tiny pep talk worked and he managed to slouch until he was mostly lying on the pile, the back of his neck in the cusp of Gamzee’s elbow. They were barely twenty minutes when John felt a prickle of awareness and then a jolt, a feeling not unlike the various times he had fallen asleep while playing Sburb in the past.

He opened his eyes, unsure whether he would be seeing a dream bubble or a possibly new Prospit.


End file.
